


Origins - Keep You Safe

by CplCrimp



Series: Underdog: Origins [1]
Category: Underdog (Cartoon)
Genre: 1/3, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Backstory, Canon Backstory, Canon Rewrite, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Crime Fighting, Crimes & Criminals, Death, Dentists, F/M, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Near Death Experiences, Origin Story, Police, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Trains, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, death by train, evil dentist - Freeform, im starting to realize all my tags on underdog fics are kinda the same. ah well
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:33:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22301134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CplCrimp/pseuds/CplCrimp
Summary: my daddy always said“nothing worth doing comes easytime is not your friendtime is not your remedyno amount of fear will make you,make you braveno amount of fear will keep you,no amount of fear will keep you safe.”keep you safe - the crane wivesA criminal breaks out of prison and escapes into the Clark Family Woods. A young dog’s father turns the crook into the police.Underdog never expected such a life to come from a humble, traumatic beginning like that.
Relationships: Lewis N. Clark Sr/Molly Barker, Underdog's Parents
Series: Underdog: Origins [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1605274
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

Things weren’t going very great for the Clark household.

Then again, things never really were.

Lewis N. Clark-  _ Sr,  _ now- and Molly Barker had one rather typical love story. 

Lewis was born on a farm, smack in the middle of two siblings on either side. He was working hard from the second his bones were strong enough to hold an axe. His own father was a very proud man. Very proud of their distant bloodhound blood and very proud Lewis was such a good tracker.

It wasn’t very long until Lewis did most work, including all farmwork, housework and babysitting. Not that he ever let his annoyances be known. He was a good, honest, hard-working, quiet man. That was all he needed to be.

When his younger siblings were old enough to take care of things, Lewis followed in his older sibling’s footsteps and extended the Clark credentials. Notably, he put that bloodhound blood to good use and started studying for a law degree.

Who else did he meet on campus other than one small, nerdy, glasses-wearing beauty named Molly Barker.

Molly was an only child, though she had several cousins who were frequently in her company. She was still the youngest for a very long time. She was also a bit richer than Lewis, not living off welfare at the very least, but was just as connected to nature. Overall, Molly was a quiet, neat lady, very interested in poetry and there to study English.

They clicked, and got married when they were twenty. They started to expect their first child soon, just a year after the wedding, but their first children would not be born until they were each twenty-five.

Molly, much like her parents, had a few issues. The first child she carried to term was not their first try. In what Lewis swore was a blessing, they had twins; Molly named their new daughter Meriwether, because she quite liked the name, and Lewis named their new son William, after his father.

Lewis never got a chance to put his law degree to use, but it would be a lie to say Molly’s poems didn’t bring in the most money. Unfortunately, it was still hardly enough to feed two children. So, Lewis became a coal miner to help make ends meet. He despised the work, and he earned asthma and hearing problems very quickly, but he loved his wife and family and would do it for them.

Fourteen years had gone by since that blessed night and nothing had changed very much. Lewis still hated his job and Molly, as her poems devolved more into depression as she got sadder, had kept to their same positions.

Until another fateful day.

Lewis had to take frequent leave and spent most of his time with his children.

Currently, he and Junior- formally Meriweather- were fishing in their neat little pond out the front of their cabin. The Clarks never could afford a house in town, but the family liked the place enough. Neither Lewis or Molly liked citylife, even small citylife, too much; and it wasn’t a very long walk to school for their kids.

It was still so wild to the both of them that Will and Junior were about to be high-schoolers.

A bright sun was overhanging the clearing, leaf shadows dappled into the pond and small leaves and flower buds blew into the water. Junior was talking about his confusion about how fish even  _ ended up _ in the pond, and Lewis was politely listening.

Until, that is, a crunching came from behind them. Lewis whipped around, instinctively sticking out an arm in front of Junior. His son stared wide-eyed as the boys in blue tumbled through their fencing of bushes and briars.

The first stumbled out and fixed his hat. He was a white human man, startling Lewis a bit more, and a bit too round for his suit. Behind him was a German Shepherd and young-looking Golden Retriever.

“Lewis N. Clark?” called the human in front.

Lewis called back, “Aye aye,” though didn’t lower his arm.

The man stepped closer, “We need your help, sir.”

Lewis glanced back at Junior, who hadn’t taken his eyes off of the officers. “...okay?”

“We had a breakout,” said the shepherd, “Station a town away said the escapee came to Ravenswood. We believe he might be hiding your woods.”

Lewis gave a solid nod and turned back to his fishing pole, “Sure thing, officers. But it’s a big wood and we don’t own all of it,” he waved them away with his hand, “We’ll tell you if we see anything.”

His nose twitched as he spoke, but it seemed only Junior noticed. With that, the somewhat surprised officers headed back. Once they disappeared into the thick shade, Lewis turned to his son.

“Go find those officers,” he whispered, lifting his legs from the water and patting his son’s back, “Bring them back here in one minute and tell them to grab their cuffs.”

Junior nodded and stood, rushing off in their direction and moving swiftly through the obstacles. He had grown up in this forest, after all, and he walked through the foliage every day.

“Hey! Hey!” he called as he caught a glimpse of golden, sun-bright fur. The retriever had a briar caught in his pant leg. His fellow officers stood around unhelpfully as he picked it out, though looked up at the mutt rushing toward them. The shepherd flattened his ears and looked a bit worried at Junior’s call.

“What is it, kid?” asked the shepherd.

Junior clasped his hands together and scuffled his bare feet awkwardly. He glanced away from the officers and tried to remember how to count past thirty.

_ One… two… three… four. _

It felt like much more than a minute when Junior spoke again.

“Come back with your cuffs,” he said, quietly and awkwardly. Without checking to make sure the cops were following, Junior rushed back to his family’s pond.

He didn’t come out of the bushes on his way back. In fact, he froze. His hands shot up to his mouth and his eyes went wide as he looked out on the scene.

Lewis Sr was pinning down a white man, his knee on his back and his hands on top of the other man’s wrists. The man under him struggled, and Lewis visibly strained to keep him pinned down. Lewis risked a glance upward and caught Junior’s gaze. He smiled rather proudly.

The bushes rustled more and the officers caught up with Junior. Viewing the scene, the shepherd pulled something out of a shirt pocket and shouted.

_ “Freeze!  _ Ravenswood Police Department!”

The retriever placed his knees on either shoulder, taking Lewis’ grip. Junior’s father stepped away, allowing the other two officers to handcuff the criminal and force him up.

Lewis clapped his hands together, smug smile still on his face as he knocked off the dust. The two dogs took the criminal back through the woods, but the human stayed back. Junior tensed as the three passed him, and as soon as they were gone, he jumped over a bush and rushed into his father’s stomach. Lewis chuckled and wrapped his arms around his son, patting his back.

“Smart girl you got there,” the officer complimented, “Meriweather, isn’t it?”

Junior tensed around Lewis, and he noticed.

“Thanks,” he said, “It’s Junior.”

“Oh!” the officer exclaimed, “I thought your twins were boy and girl, and the girl was the one with the freckles.”

Lewis chuckled lightly.  _ “Nahhhh.” _

The officer scratched his head a minute before shrugging and speaking again. “Quite the nose you got there, Clark.”

Lewis nodded, “Thanks. Back on the farm our chickens were wild. Had to catch ‘em before a fox did because Lord knows we weren’t going to be the ones starving,” he explained, laughing. 

The officer laughed back. Soon he calmed and wiped his face, waving to Lewis and wading through the bushes. Lewis waved back before turning down to Junior. Junior looked back up at him. Despite Junior’s age, there was still a significant height difference between the two.

“You did a good job today,” he complimented, ruffling his son’s hair, “Feel good?”

Junior let out a small whimper and stepped back. He rubbed one arm with the other and scuffled his feet again, glancing away. Lewis chuckled.

“Come on, let’s tell your mother about your task today. I’ll cut you up some apples.”

Junior’s eyes lit up.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been three years since Lewis captured that crook.

News had spread to all the local prisons of the elderly, asthmatic pound puppy who had managed to capture a man wanted for murder and lived. Most of them, or the ones that hated Animal-Americans and mutts the most, decided to put Lewis to the challenge.

“The police are here,” Molly said all too frequently. Lewis would get up and fix his mustache and flatten his ears before going out. Sometimes he’d come back late at night, or missing a suspender, or with fresh tears in his pants, but it never took him more than a week to catch someone.

Molly, William and Junior were not all too interested in their father’s antics, but it’d be a lie to say they didn’t get worried when Lewis still wasn’t home by midnight. Whenever he _was_ home at a reasonable hour, he would be found laying on the couch with a toothpick in his mouth, counting his cash. Never any more than he’d make at the mine, as he always reminded. _Honest work for honest pay._

But this time, it was a challenge.

“The police are here,” Junior’s mother said, her black ears twitching and her matted tail absent-mindedly swaying.

William happened to be sick in bed that night, but Molly, Junior and their father were preparing dinner together. Lewis Sr stopped cutting carrots. He pulled the yellow curtains of the kitchen window closed and scoffed.

Junior, who was seventeen now and had developed hearing as good as his mother’s, nodded and replied, “They’re right outside the door.”

Lewis grumbled and stepped away, so Junior took up his position.

The cabin echoed with a heavy-handed knock. It was quickly replaced by the squeak of the opening door. Junior twisted one of his ears in that direction to hear the conversation.

“Clark,” greeted the boys in blue.

“Sirs,” replied Lewis.

“New release. We heard he followed the tracks.”

“Aye aye?”

“Weddy Locke.”

Lewis took in a sharp breath and replied a few moments later. “Weddy Locke,” he repeated. “...DDS?”

“That’s right.”

“Down the tracks…”

Not very long after that, Lewis had closed the squeaky door and knocked a toothpick out of the holder on the couchside table. Junior patted his hands on his pants as his mother gathered the ingredients together.

“Who’s Weddy Locke?” he asked, stepping the few feet closer to his father.

“You know him," Lewis answered somberly. He then sighed and slumped down on the couch. He held his head in one hand and messed about with his toothpick with the other. Junior sat on his opposite side. Soon, Lewis bared his teeth and pointed out a silver canine with his pick. "But, Weddy Locke’s the guy who pulled that one out,” he answered, then pointed around his mouth more, motioning to missing holes and shining, metal teeth. “And that one. That one. Let's not forget that one…”

Junior grasped his arms with his opposite hands as Lewis went on to describe Locke’s barbaric and torturous procedures. He kept repeating that Locke’s preferred sedation tactic was laughing gas.

“And it was probably expired, too,” Lewis grumbled, “Shit messed me up for weeks.”

 _“Honey,”_ Molly scolded.

“And, trust me, Junior,” his father went on, “being high and sick is the last thing you want when you have fingers in your mouth and shit’s getting ripped out.”

Junior cringed and slumped against the other arm of the couch. Lewis stood and kept the toothpick in a pocket just below his suspenders.

“Going out,” he called to Molly.

“So soon?” she replied, “You just got the message!”

“I'm not gonna let Locke hurt anyone else,” Lewis argued.

“He's a _dentist,_ Lewis, what can he do?”

“He was in _jail,_ ” Lewis argued with an angry growl, “He pulled out several of a guy’s teeth and, when his mouth was bleeding, didn't do anything. The guy _choked to death,_ Molly.”

Junior’s mother rolled her eyes, but his father kissed her before heading out.

Lewis returned just a few minutes after the moon had reached its peak. His pants were torn to bits, and so was his white shirt. One of his suspenders was torn in half. Most startling, however, was the fact that his muzzle was covered in dried blood, and a chunk was missing from his ear.

Junior felt his stomach drop as Lewis turned the kitchen light on and started unwrapping the bandages. Molly’s hands shot up to her mouth and her eyes went wide.

“...bear?” she asked, hopefully.

Lewis wrapped bandages around one of his hands while a drop of blood from his ear dripped onto his white shirt. He looked at Molly over his shoulder, face emotionless, though eyes dark. Finally, he replied.

“Locke.”


End file.
